Little Sheriff
by xeloquent
Summary: Charlotte Romero has always felt out of place. The feeling only increases when she's forced to move to White Pine Bay to live with the father that she sees once a year. There she meets the girl with the oxygen tank, the kooky blonde woman who owns a motel, and her troubled son. But maybe this town won't be so bad. Just maybe. Set from S1-onwards. (no longer updating)
1. The Beginning

_A/N_ : Wow ok it's been awhile. Apparently, I have a major problem with consistency, sorry!

Also, it appears that I have a fascination with parent-child relationships because I'm here with another one of those stories. Maybe it's because my relationship with my own parents is so unconventional, I don't know. But I lost all of my muse for Suddenly, my Grey's Anatomy story. I've pretty much lost all interest in the fandom in general. I might update at some point, whenever my muse feels like acting up, but if I do, it probably won't be for awhile. Sorry!

However, that being said, I have a HUGE muse for Bates Motel. Little known fact, but this is my favorite series of all time. I really don't want to lose the spark for this story like I did with my other one, so there will be a lot of storylines and events that don't happen in the show. Most of it will probably _not_ be canon. It would be boring for you to read, and for me, as a writer to write.

I don't have an update schedule established, but I already have some chapters pre written, so my schedule should be somewhat more regular! I'm starting freshman year so I'll probably be a little busy, but I will always find time to write. That's a promise.

So, I present to you, _Little Sheriff_. If you have any questions, comments, whatever, please leave a review. Those mean the most to me. Thank you for reading! -Mya

 **Little Sheriff: Chapter One**

Her fingers traced along the pale blue walls, carefully avoiding knocking down all the pictures that lined them. A first dance recital, a wedding, a little boy's birthday party, and a three year old Charlie wearing a sunhat, sitting on the beach, smiling up at her father who was cradling her in his arms. This house was filled with so many memories, some good, some bad, but none of which she wanted to forget.

Yesterday had been the last day she would ever walk the halls of her high school, and the last time she would see any of her friends, for a while at least. Her goodbyes with her best friends, Isla and Rose, were sad, but it was her goodbye to Finn that really hit her the hardest.

Finn was her boyfriend of seven months. He'd nervously asked her to prom at the end of her sophomore year, and his junior year, the proposal complete with a bouquet of roses and a giant cardboard cutout of Leonardo DiCaprio to win her over. Finn knew that he was her biggest crush. She'd said yes, and they went to prom only as friends, but slowly it evolved into more than a friendship. They had the sweet, teenage romance that everyone envied. The throwing-rocks-at-windows, kissing on the front porch, teddy bear buying type of love. They rarely fought, which may or may not have been a bad thing, and were each other's safe place. That's why it was so devastating when her mother announced that she was moving to White Pine Bay. Begrudgingly, she'd kissed him goodbye, and looked into his honey colored eyes one last time.

It was very apparent that Charlie didn't want to leave. She didn't want to abandon all of her friends, her family, everything that she had established in the past sixteen years. More than anything, she wanted to stay. But it was time to go, and her mother wasn't known for being patient.

The car was all loaded up with her things, and various people. Her stepfather sat in the driver's seat, looking smug as ever. He had tried to convince her mom to ship her off to live with her dad for a while now. It appeared he had finally won. Next was her mother, Julia Emerson; she made casseroles, wore pearls, and vacuumed like it was going out of style. The woman had never made one mistake in her entire life. At least, not until now. Then there was her little brother, who, simply stated, was a brat.

"Come on, Charlie," The woman impatiently rolled down her car window, and motioned for her daughter to come to the car so they could leave. Charlie was standing in the front yard, trying to memorize every detail. The tree with the tire swing. The specific spot on the grass where her parents would have "picnics" with her, back when her father still lived here. He'd moved from White Pine Bay to Portland for her mother, only to move back to his hometown just a few years later. Her mom was a lot more fun back then.

The raven haired girl sighed and shuffled towards the car. "Coming." She set her backpack on the floor of the vehicle and climbed in next to Gabe.

༺ ༻

The car ride was long and boring, just what Charlie had expected. They lived about 2 and a half hours away from "White Pine Bay," wherever the hell that was located. She'd been there a few times, a few weeks a year, for nine years to be exact, but still had no idea where it was.

Charlie drowned out the sounds of her stepfather making down-putting, slightly sexist comments by listening to the deepest indie music she could find. This was her life now. She was going to become an angsty, repressed teenager. She was honestly surprised that it hadn't happened before now. They'd stopped once for a bathroom break, because Gabriel, being the dumb-ass he usually was, drank an entire super-sized gas station slushie before they left, and decided against going to the bathroom when they were still at home. But then it was back on the road. They'd gone in and out of rain a few times, which was typical in Oregon. Apparently, it rained more in White Pine Bay than it did in Portland. Charlie didn't mind. She liked the rain.

The next thing she knew they pulling into the somewhat familiar driveway of a somewhat familiar house, so she could go see a somewhat familiar man. It wasn't that Charlie and her dad didn't get along; when they were together they had a pretty good system, actually. He didn't ask any questions, she didn't give any answers. Alex Romero was a pretty simple man, and Charlotte Romero was his pretty simple daughter.

The house looked the same as when she had been here last year. A nice front porch with a swing, some brightly colored flowers that were surprisingly well-kept, and a recently mowed yard. The paint on the fence surrounding the house was chipping a little, and the staple giant oak tree was covered with leaves that were all different shades of orange, red, and yellow.

Charlie opened her car door begrudgingly and heaved her heavy backpack out. It was filled almost entirely with books and journals.

"Goodbye, Charlotte, I love you!" Her mother got out of the car as well and hugged her tightly while she cringed, and pretended to hate that this interaction was happening. But the truth was, she was trying to snapshot it all. The way her Chanel perfume smelt, the exact color of her sweater, how soft her blonde curls were, and the look of real sadness in her eyes when she handed her daughter over to her father.

"Mom, I thought we agreed to not use 'Charlotte,'" She scoffed. She hated the name with a passion, insisting that it sounded like something an old lady with twenty cats would be named. She started forcing everyone to call her Charlie at the beginning of second grade on.

"Shut up, and for one minute, just be my Charlotte," She said, pulling Charlie tighter to her chest. Usually, she wasn't sappy like this. It was a little weird, but she wasn't going to complain any more than she already had.

Julia Emerson had, at one point, been a free spirit, and a kind, loving mother. Her jeans were constantly stained from all the painting she did, she'd blast music in the living room and spin around a young Charlie, and was a force to be reckoned with. This had all changed when she divorced Alex and married David. Somehow, he'd found a way to put the light in her out. Now, she had been reduced to nothing more than a simple housewife. When Charlie asked her mother why she chose to divorce her father, her response was they had simply fallen out of love. But even as a child, Charlie knew that wasn't true. People didn't just fall out of love.

Then Charlie said goodbye to her stepfather, which was basically just a nod of recognition, and to her brother, Gabe, which involved a little more embracing, but barely. They waited in the driveway until they saw that she had gotten in the house okay, and then they sped off. Charlie rolled her eyes at how eager they seemed to get away.

The front door was locked, but luckily she remembered where the spare key was. Sure enough, when she lifted up one of the flower pots that was holding a bright patch of marigolds, there it was, glinting happily in the sun's rays. She picked it up, fumbled with a little, and pushed the door open. It smelt like pine trees and cologne and was seemingly empty. "Hello?" Charlie called, not expecting anyone to reply. She dropped her bags in the living room, and just as expected when she went into the kitchen, there was a little blue Post-It note stuck to the fridge.

 _Charlie,_

 _There's food in the fridge, or you can go into town and get something. I left $50 on the dining room table. Won't be home until late. I'm glad you're here, kid._

 _—Dad_

She opened the fridge and was not at all surprised by what was staring back at her. A newly bought six-pack of beer, steak, some fruits and veggies, a questionable looking block of cheddar cheese, and a half eaten salad. For a man who somehow kept his garden nice and tidy, grocery shopping was not at all one of his strong suits.

༺ ༻

People in White Pine Bay had always seen Charlie as just the sheriff's little girl. It wasn't as though they had a lot of other things to associate her with. It wasn't like she was here a lot. A few weeks a year was nothing, especially when it was during the summer. But now that she would be going to school here, she realized that she would have to attempt to make friends and small talk with the boring adults that always tried to compare her to her father.

Charlie entered the best diner in town, _Georgia's_ , and seated herself in one of the booths. It might not actually be the best diner in town, as she was sort of biased. Georgia and Henry, the owners, were her godparents. But she liked to think that everyone appreciated the blue booths and old school vibes as much as she did. Charlie hadn't been sitting there two minutes when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her eyes flitted up to see an ecstatic looking Georgia, whose mouth was open slightly in surprise.

"Well, I'll be damned. Charlotte Romero? You grew out of the pigtails!" She held her arms out. Charlie stood up and warmly embraced the woman. A smile graced her face.

"Hi, Georgia."

The pair pulled away after a few seconds, but Georgia kept her hands in the younger girl's and looked her over. If anyone else did this she would have definitely felt weird, but this was Georgia's thing. Every time she saw her she had to make some comment about how big Charlie had gotten, and then she'd do her routine inspection of her goddaughter, to see how much she'd changed. "It's been too long, honey."

"It really has been. I've missed you guys."

"We've missed you too, Charlie."

And Charlie really had missed them. Probably more than anything or anyone else, actually. She felt bad. She hadn't visited them the last few times she'd come here. But now that she was seeing her, it was like they'd never been apart. Georgia, despite not living in the deep South for years, still had the heavy Southern accent, slightly greying blonde hair, and vibrant pink lipstick, her signature. Henry probably still had the age spots on his cheeks and the booming laugh.

Georgia looked behind Charlie, in the booth where she had been sitting, and raised an eyebrow. "Where's your dad?"

The teenager shrugged. "I don't know. Out doing cop things, I guess."

Georgia waved a hand in the air and scoffed. She'd always been very opinionated and had told Alex Romero on many occasions, most of which were over a slice of pie, that he needed to spend more time with his daughter. "Well, tell him hi for me. And come visit! We still live in the same house on Cherry Street. Henry will be thrilled to hear that you're back." She smiled and gave Charlie a kiss on the forehead, before going off to help another customer. She sat with what had just happened for a few seconds before wiping the lipstick off with a napkin and going back to looking at the menu.

"I didn't know Sheriff Romero had a daughter."

Charlie looked up to see a blonde woman and a dark-haired boy standing next to her table. They were presumably mother and son. The woman was smiling down at her, and her son was standing awkwardly behind her, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was cute but looked nothing like the blonde, who was a classic kind of beauty. A pleasant change from most of the Barbie Dolls that lived in White Pine Bay.

"Well, you seem to be the only one." Charlie chuckled a little and set the menu down.

"I'm Norma Bates, and this is my son, Norman." The woman, now identified as Norma, pointed behind her and held out her hand. The girl shook it and then shook Norman's. "Charlie." She introduced herself. Norma and Norman was a little... strange. But who was she to judge? Charlie was pretty sure her mother had named her after the Sex and the City character.

"We just moved into the old Seafairer a couple of days ago. You two look to be about the same age?"

 _The Seafairer._ Her father's childhood friend, Keith Summers, and his family had owned it before it got taken by the bank. She was glad that it finally had new owners. Maggie was okay, but she'd always thought Keith was a real asshole.

"I'm a junior, you?" Charlie asked, directing her attention towards Norman.

"Me too. I haven't seen you at school, though," Norman pointed out. Charlie made a mental note that she had to keep her language in check around him. He seemed like a prim and proper kid.

"Actually, I just moved here, too," She explained. "I used to live with my mom, but I guess she wanted to swap. I start school tomorrow."

Norma offered a sympathetic smile and pointed to a booth nearby where two jackets and a purse were sitting. "Well, Charlie, if you want to come sit with us and give us a briefing of White Pine Bay, I'd be happy to buy you dinner," The blonde woman looked hopeful.

"Mrs. Bates, you really don't have to do that-" She quickly tried to discourage Norma, but was instantly pushed back.

"-Call me Norma, please. And I insist! We're from Arizona, and we don't really know how anything works around here." Blue eyes met green, and for a few seconds, the two women just studied each other.

Charlie gave up on the staring contest they were currently engaged in and sighed. "Okay, if you're sure. I don't want to intrude."

Instantly, Norma's eyes lit up with excitement, and she flashed a smile. "It's no intrusion at all."

Charlie picked up the small bag she'd brought with her, and her jacket she'd strewn next to her, and followed the Bates clan back to their table. Norman and Norma had been sitting across from each other, and neither looked like they were going to make an effort to change the setup. "Scoot over, Norman," Norma looked her son squarely in the eyes. He did as he was told, and readjusted as the girl sat down.

Norma was the first to try and provoke conversation. "So you said you just moved here? Where did you live before?"

"Portland, actually. But I've been visiting White Pine Bay practically my whole life. That's why everyone knows who I am," Charlie glanced around the room briefly, surveying everyone in there. Just from a quick glance, she could spot fifteen people whose names, and kids names she knew.

"Portland, huh? I've never been, but I've always wanted to plan a trip there. You said you lived there with your mom?"

Charlie quickly ushered a "Thanks," as one of the waitresses came over and set down three glasses of water for them. The girl must have been somewhat new. Charlie didn't recognize her, but her nameplate said that her name was Malia. "Yeah. My parents are divorced, I see my dad for a few weeks in the summer."

"Why the sudden change? Why move here?"

She stuck her straw in her cup, took a drink, and then pushed it away before looking at Norma. "Well, in all honesty, my step-dad has tried to convince my mom of this for a while. He doesn't like me very much, for whatever reason. Anyways, I guess he finally said something that won her over, and now I'm here." She shrugged her shoulders carelessly. It wasn't that big of a deal anymore, now that she was actually in White Pine Bay, and the cruel man was out of her sight. Now she wouldn't have to make painful small talk with him at the breakfast table. It was no big deal to Charlie, that's why she was so surprised when Norma grabbed her hand.

"Aw, honey, I'm sorry." Norma's eyes were filled with real empathy, and even a little bit of pity, which Charlie loathed. But she could see that this woman genuinely cared. Maybe White Pine Bay wouldn't be that bad after all. Maybe she should give all of the people here a second chance.

༺ ༻

"Hey, Dad," Charlie called behind her when she heard the front door open a few hours after she'd gotten back from the diner. The trio had talked for two hours after getting their food. Actually, Norma and Charlie did most of the talking. They had really taken a liking to each other. She was friendly and had a wicked sense of humor. But Norman was a little strange. Not rude or anything, just strange. He didn't really say much and was always looking around the room like he was trying to observe everyone and everything. But after that, they exchanged phone numbers, and Norma assured her that she was welcome to stop by anytime.

The walk home wasn't very long; ten minutes, give or take. The second she'd stepped foot in the door, Charlie's phone started to ring. It was Isla calling, so of course, she answered. They talked for a good hour. After that Charlie picked up a book and had been reading ever since.

"Hey, Charlie," Alex said, ruffling his daughter's hair. Most dads that only got to see their kid once a year would be ecstatic about them coming to live with them, but not her dad. He seemed pretty mellow about the situation. It was part of the Alex Romero allure, she guessed.

He went to the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. Must have been a boring day at work. Usually, he reached for the hard liquor. He wasn't a drunk or anything, but definitely wasn't the type of guy to have one simple beer and call it a night.

"Did you make dinner?" Alex asked while coming back into the living room. He took a seat in his recliner in the corner of the room and looked in the direction of Charlie.

She looked up from her book briefly. "Nope, I went to the diner. Georgia says hi. I wasn't exactly going to eat a tomato or half of a salad."

"I was wondering when I'd hear from her, again." He laughed, and lifted his beer up and took a sip. Afterwards, he set the bottle down on one of the coasters on the side table next to him. "Let's just say I haven't had a lot of time to go grocery shopping lately. I've been working on a tough case."

"Well, today must have been an exceptionally easy day at work. Usually, you go for whiskey or bourbon." Charlie raised an eyebrow cautiously. Her father was acting weird. It was impossible for him to not be acting a little off, though. He'd spent the entire day digging deep into the Keith Summers' murder case. He had finally come to the conclusion of who killed his childhood friend. Alex had a strange feeling that it was Norma Bates, the new owner of The Seafairer, the very woman that, unbeknownst to him, his daughter had eaten dinner with that night. He'd met her a few nights ago at the motel, where she was doing some "re-carpeting" at two in the morning. That was when he'd gotten the inkling that Keith was dead, and she had something to do with it.

"It was.. an interesting day."

Charlie scoffed and set her book face-down in front of her. "That's all I get? It was an 'interesting day?'"

"Shouldn't you be in bed? You have school in the morning," He expeditiously evaded the question.

"You picked an interesting time to play the parent card," Charlie rolled her eyes. and leaned forward in her chair. It was a little harsh, but she was definitely not in the mood for this right now.

Alex furrowed his brow and blinked a few times, clearly not expecting that reply. "Excuse me?"

Charlie stood up from the chair, and picked her book up, marking her spot with her index finger. She gave her father a small smile, before starting on her way to her bedroom. "Goodnight, Dad."

Her eyes were met with a bright stream of light as she flicked the switch on. The room was the same as the last time she saw it, but different from the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that. Alex insisted on letting her redo it every time she came to visit. The offer would probably be coming soon. She was okay with how it was now, though. Pale yellow walls, white comforter, some accent pillows here and there. Nothing fancy. If he offered, which he would, Charlie would turn him down.

She'd unpacked most of her things already, she was just having a hard time figuring out where to store all of her books. But rather than figuring it out at this very moment, she opted to go to bed. Truth be told, she really was tired. Today had been.. a lot, and she was ready to forget about it all for a good six and a half hours, until tomorrow, when she'd begin her first day in hell.


	2. The Tiger

A/N: Alex as a father makes my heart melt into a little puddle. The chapters are probably going to be on the shorter side (1500-3500 words, if you consider that short), but will have more frequent updates. This one happens to be a long one. The number of words also depends on how much happens within the chapter and how much inspiration I have for whatever I'm writing about. Now that school's started I'm kind of busy. So many plans for this story :) Please follow, favorite, and especially review! That would mean the world to me.

 **Little Sheriff: Chapter Two**  
The chirping of her alarm woke Charlie up with a startle, as she frantically searched for her phone so she could turn it off. After about thirty seconds of becoming a madman, she eventually found it and shut it off. It was 6:00, which was too early in her opinion. It was the end of October and school had started in mid-August, so you would have thought that she would be more accustomed to the sleep schedule now. But alas, every time it went off she still was full of surprise, as if it was something that she wasn't expecting.

Ten minutes full of contemplation passed when she decided that she should probably get up. Charlie climbed out of bed and into her slippers and warm wool robe. She walked to the bathroom, her feet sinking into the plush hallway carpet. She peed, brushed her teeth, and showered. Once she was out, she pulled on some jeans and a sky blue colored hoodie, dried her hair, and put on a layer of mascara. There was no way in hell that she was going to get all dolled up for the youth of White Pine Bay.

That was when Charlie finally noticed the clinking noises of pots and pans coming from downstairs, and the faint smell of something that resembled pancakes, but also could pass for burning hair. She quickly darted down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she was met with the sight of her father attempting to push something around in a pan.

"You're.. cooking?" She asked, trying to stifle a laugh. Alex had never been the one to cook. Her mother was more of the chef between the two of them. Whenever she was here, she usually ended up cooking, they went out, or they ate something that came from a box with instructions on the back.

Alex pretended to be offended and rolled his eyes at his daughter. "Yes, I _am_ cooking," He said, a certain tone of disdain present. "Being a cop isn't the only thing that I'm good at, you know," He tried while putting whatever was in the pan on a plate. Charlie could now see that it was eggs. There was bacon in the other pan and blueberry pancakes on the griddle. He knew they were her favorite.

"Modest, too, aren't you?" Charlie asked playfully, taking a seat at the breakfast nook overlooking the kitchen. She observed her father. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, was looking a bit disheveled and flustered, and had a towel thrown over his shoulder. He was like a little Martha Stewart. "Why exactly are you cooking, though? And how? We have no food."

"Smartass," He put two strips of bacon next to the eggs and proceeded to flip over two pancakes that were currently cooking. "I stopped at the grocery store this morning and picked up some things for breakfast. If you want to go get more groceries later, I'll give you some money. As we both know, shopping isn't one of my many talents," He glanced up to see Charlie rolling her eyes at him being cocky on purpose. "But I'm making you breakfast because I don't want this to be completely awful. I know you didn't want to move here, that your mother forced you to. The least I can do is make you some pancakes."

She smiled at this. "Thank you."

"For making you pancakes? You're welcome," Alex tilted his head and smiled briskly while grabbing the spatula. He carefully slid the two pancakes on to the plate and handed it to Charlie, who accepted it graciously.

"Well, yeah that too, but thank you for trying. That's more than I can say for mom or.. David," She cringed both internally and externally when his name came out of her mouth.

"You should take it easy on your mom. She loves you, you know. As for David, do what you want, I don't care," Charlie snickered and shoved a piece of pancake into her mouth. She let it sit on her tongue for a moment, before giving it the nod of approval. "This is good. But next time you might want to wear an apron," Charlie pointed to her dad's front, which had a light coating of flour all over it. Alex looked down at his shirt, and then back up to his daughter. He promptly stuck his tongue out at the teenager and disappeared off into the living room. "Be ready to leave in fifteen!"

༺ ༻

Alex had insisted on driving his daughter to school, and Charlie wasn't going to protest. She'd rather be in the warm car than having to walk there in the crisp air outside. It _was_ only October, and it _was_ Oregon, but it was still cold. The two quickly said goodbye as he dropped her off in front of the school. She hopped out of the vehicle and sauntered inside, her charcoal colored backpack hanging off her shoulders. A few glances were thrown her way when she opened the doors and walked into the filled hallway, but not as many as she was expecting. According to some paper that her mother had given her with her schedule and locker number, hers was Locker 359.

Charlie pushed past the crowd, refusing to make eye contact with anybody, and found her locker. It was right next to the World History classroom. She struggled with the lock for only a few seconds before it came off, and the metal door opened. It was relatively clean, except for the few scribbles of graffiti inside. _L+S, Matt was here, and Elena Cooper is easy!_ stared back at her. She rolled her eyes at the feeble attempts of high school students to leave their mark and started to pull out heavy textbooks from her bag.

She heard someone shuffle up to the locker next to her a few seconds later, and when she closed her door she could see the stranger that would be neighboring her in the hallway. The girl was dark skinned, had a head full of crazy curls, a septum piercing, and looked like she'd rather stick hot needles in her eyes than be here.

"Hi," Charlie nervously said. She wasn't sure that this girl wanted to be her friend, exactly, but she was going to try anyway. To her surprise, she turned towards her and didn't just ignore her.

"Hey," She shortly replied and closed her locker door. "I'm Sofia."

Sofia didn't stick her hand out to shake Charlie's, she just gave her a small smile instead. That was better than an awkward handshake, anyways.

"I'm Charlie."

Sofia nodded. Her eyes widened after a few seconds. "You're the new kid, right? Dude, everyone's talking about you."

Charlie sighed. Really? Couldn't she just have a fresh start like a normal new kid? Of course, there had to be some strings attached when you were a Romero kid. "What are they saying?"

"Mainly just that you're Sheriff Romero's daughter," They both began to walk down the hallway, a notebook and a textbook each, along with some pencils and pens. Charlie had no idea where she was going, so might as well just follow this girl she'd just met. Just like she'd eaten dinner with the woman and her son who she knew nothing about. So far her choices here were prime. "Some idiot said he wanted to smash you. Boys are stupid."

"I second that."

"Hey, what's your first class?" Sofia asked a sense of hopefulness in her voice. She didn't seem as angry anymore, now that Charlie had actually talked to her. She was actually proving to be pretty nice.

"Uh.." Charlie lifted up her notebook to reveal a green covered Biology textbook. "Bio with Ms. Scott."

Sofia bumped her companion's shoulder and turned down a hallway towards their destination. "Me too."

Somehow, Charlie made it through the rest of the day without feeling completely alone. She had Sofia in her second-period class too, and her sixth. For the other hours, she just made small talk with some of the kids that weren't wearing designer jackets or six-inch heels. The snobby rich kids all had daggers in their eyes. Charlie stayed away from them.

Then the eighth period rolled around, the last one of the day. It hadn't been as bad as she was expecting, but she was definitely more than ready to go home and plop on the couch. The class was English, which wasn't too bad. English had always been one of the more tolerable classes for her. Ms. Watson didn't make her stand up in front of the class and introduce herself like a few other teachers had. She was nice and didn't really bore Charlie, which was new.

"This is a partner assignment, so I want everybody to split up into pairs of two or three."

The bell rang, and kids started to lock eyes with their friends while gathering their things and leaving. Charlie froze and cautiously looked around the room. She couldn't spot anybody that looked remotely familiar or friendly until...

"Norman!" She grabbed her things and zoomed towards his desk. He and another girl were engaged in a conversation.

He stopped mid sentence and turned to face her. He smiled. "Hey, Charlie."

"You two know each other?" The girl questioned, eyeing them suspiciously.

Charlie nodded and quickly began to explain. "Uh, yeah, we met at Georgia's yesterday. I actually had dinner with him and his mom.." She trailed off but turned back to the pair after a few seconds. "Anyways, sorry for butting in, but you're the only person in this classroom that I know, so do you think I could work with you guys?"

"Sure. Yeah, okay." Norman nodded and shrugged, and looked to Emma, who was nodding as well.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I'm Charlie," She introduced herself to the girl. Charlie hadn't even noticed the decorated oxygen tank trailing behind her until right now. She probably had some sort of awful disease. Her guess was cystic fibrosis.

Emma's eyes lit up as recognition washed over her face. "Oh, you're the sheriff's kid!"

And there it was again, rearing its ugly head. She just wanted to be her own person without any pre judgments attached, but it seemed like that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. "Unfortunately, yes."

Emma must have caught on to the fact that Charlie wasn't amused by what she'd just said because she quickly started apologizing. "Sorry, I didn't mean that in a bad way or anything. Your dad seems.. cool. It's just that I've seen you around a few times. I'm Emma Decody." She held her hand out.

"Nice to meet you." Charlie shook Emma's hand and rested her arm back by her side. She was definitely forgiven.

"Anyways, we could meet tomorrow?"

"Cool," Norman said, again, shoving his hands into his pockets like he'd done last night, too. Charlie was still confused about the fact that he was Norma's kid. The two seemed like polar opposites.

"Great. We'll come to your place," Emma looked at Norman with a large, giddy smile on her face. Her dimples were practically springing from her cheeks.

"Oh, well maybe we should-"

"Does 11:00 work for you? I can stop by your house and pick you up," Emma looked to Charlie. Charlie didn't have a car, and she didn't really want to walk all the way to the motel. Her father driving her was not an option. So she smiled and nodded. "We'll be there."

༺ ༻

The next day, Charlie woke up at the pleasant time of 9:30, to find her father gone. Not a surprise. She went downstairs after taking a long, hot shower, and poured herself a giant cup of coffee. She then opened the fridge and smiled when she saw that it was full. A trip to the grocery store was certainly needed, so she had gone after school yesterday and practically cleaned out all the shelves. The cashier had eyed her strangely, so she bluntly replied with "Romero's my dad," and the cashier nodded in understanding.

Charlie walked back upstairs after that, showered, did the whole routine. She decided on a blush colored t-shirt dress, some boots, and a jacket. When she looked back at the clock she saw that it was already 10:30, so Emma could be here at any time.

15 minutes later she was sitting in an orange Volkswagen Beetle, chatting happily with Emma, and pulling into the Bates Motel parking lot. The two walked up the many, many stone steps, and by the time they finally reached the top Emma was a little out of breath. She was coughing a fair amount. "You okay?" Charlie asked, concern apparent on her face.

"I'm good," She nodded and rang the doorbell. A boy answered, but it wasn't Norman. Actually, a _man_ answered. He was tall and muscular and had short cut dirty-blonde hair. He was attractive in Charlie's book.

"Hi!" Emma's voice instantly became more chipper than usual. "We're here to study with Norman."

The boy made eye contact with the both of them and smiled. His eyes lingered over Charlie a bit too long. "Hey, Norman, there are two girls here for you."

Upon getting no reply, Dylan moved to the side and opened the door wider. "Come in."

The two of them obliged and smiled at him as they walked into the house. The outside looked a lot creepier than the inside. Granted, the inside was no modern day HGTV house, but something about it was comforting. The pictures of Norman that commandeered the living room were sweet. It was easy to see that his mother really loved him.

"Charlie!" Norma's face lit up when the two girls walked into the kitchen, Dylan trailing behind them. She opened her arms and gave Charlie a quick squeeze before looking next to her at Emma.

"Hey, you must be Mrs. Bates. I'm Emma."

"Hello, Emma." The woman turned around and eyed her son who was sitting at the table, nervously rapping his fingers on his thighs. Her look shouted ' _why are there two teenage girls here for you?_ ', remembering the night that Bradley Martin had come to the door, and it all went to shit. But Norma had to catch herself. She _did_ have the sheriff's daughter around, now.

"Hey Emma, Charlie," Norman greeted them with a smile and a nod before looking to his mother. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. We're all doing a Language Arts project together."

"Poetry, how exciting, right?" Charlie half-joked, earning a chuckle from Dylan who had yet to introduce himself. But she really did despise poetry. Something about it made the world seem better somehow, which she knew was not true. There were terrible, god-awful people on this planet and it was easier to just face that fact rather than dance around it with fancy words and pleasant imagery.

Dylan leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest. "Poe and Whitman were my enemies in high school. I'm Dylan by the way. Norman's my brother."

She smiled and Emma and Norman stared at the two curiously. Norma did the same but was less obvious about it. Between her late husband and two sons, one of which had always been a troublemaker, snooping had become one of her gifts. "Charlie Romero."

"Nice to meet you, Charlie."

"You too, Dylan." They locked eyes. His were a pretty blue that were quite literally, the color of the sky. A few seconds felt like hours for Dylan and Charlie, and apparently everyone else too because Norman cleared his throat and rose from his spot at the table. "We'll be upstairs if you need us, mother."

Norma nodded. "Alright, Norman. Let me know if you get hungry." She gave her son a quick kiss on the cheek before sending him and the girls on their ways. Once she could see that they were out of earshot, she turned to her eldest with a scowl on her face.

"Don't even think about it, Dylan." She cautiously warned him.

Dylan tilted his head and shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Norma sighed. It was always going to be like pulling teeth with him. "That girl is sixteen years old. It's inappropriate, she's off limits."

"Okay, sure Norma," He nodded, grabbed two freshly baked cookies off of the plate sitting on the table, and gave her a smirk before leaving the room. "I guess you'd rather have Norman make out with her, then." He knew it was the perfect jab in the heart towards Norma. In her eyes, she was the only woman that Norman was ever allowed to have.

༺ ༻

"The Tiger by William Blake is a classic. I think we should go with that one." Emma spoke after the long silence between the three of them. They each had a book in hand, filled with words of life and death, love and lust.

Charlie absentmindedly twirled a piece of hair around her finger, while reading some disturbing French poem. _Whoever wrote this should probably be on some sort of watch list._ These critically acclaimed writers really needed some therapy. "Let me see." She took the book from Emma, and quickly skimmed through it, barely absorbing the words, but happy to finally have found something. All of this reading was making her brain hurt. "Okay, sounds good to me."

"What's it about?" Norman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"How could a God who made all this beautiful stuff in the world also make things that are scary and evil?" This caught Charlie's attention. Sounded realistic enough for her. "Good job, Em. You did the impossible. You found a poem that might actually not make me want to throw up." Emma rolled her eyes and smiled. She was just about to reach for her notebook when her phone buzzed and lit up. Emma looked at it curiously and sighed when she saw who the message was from. "It's my dad. He wants me home, now."

"Shit, Emma, what'd you do?" Charlie's eyes widened.

The brunette sighed and shook her head. "It's always something with him. Any excuse for me to not have much of a life outside of home and school." She arose from the bed and started shoving books and papers into her brown leather backpack. "I can take you home now if you want?"

"Actually, my mom could give Charlie a ride. We still have to finish up with some more notes," Norman piped up, a half-smile plastered on his face.

Emma looked between the two of them and narrowed her eyes at Charlie. She could sense that there was something weird going on between the two of them. Or at least one of them. The other person was completely clueless. "Are you sure?"

Norman nodded his head. "Yeah, it's no problem." Charlie shrugged.

"Okay," "Well, bye guys, I'll see you Monday."

"Bye, Emma!" Charlie and Norman spoke in harmony.

Now that they had a poem picked out, they had to dissect the crap out of it. Charlie glanced in her own bag, where the rest of her belongings were. She pulled out a notebook and pencil and started explaining what everything meant, line by line. Norman was working on some sort of essay, or rather, dissertation based on how much he was writing about the author. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Charlie's pencil slipped out of her hand and pinged when it hit the floor. She bent down to pick it up, but her attention was drawn to something else. There was a small book shoved in between Norman's mattress. It was probably something he didn't want anybody to see. If it was a diary she would quickly shut it, put it back, and never talk or think about it again. But curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself pulling the journal out. Charlie was surprised by what she saw when she opened it. It could have possibly been a diary, but it was entirely in Japanese, and there were pictures. They were good; the pages depicted a well-drawn girl, bound by rope in some room. You could feel her fear.

Charlie sat up and brought the book to her lap. She swatted Norman on the leg and smiled when he looked up at her. "Well shit. You can draw."

Norman's eyes widened when he saw what was in her hands. _She's going to think I'm weird._ "Oh, that's nothing."

She squinted and tilted her head to the side. "No, Norman, this is a real talent."

Norman shook his head and looked down at the blankets on his bed. They had never been more interesting than they were right now. "I didn't draw them. I found the book in one of the motel rooms while doing some re carpeting."

Charlie picked up on his sudden attitude change and rolled her eyes. "I actually took Japanese both my freshman and sophomore years. Not to toot my own horn, but I was pretty good at it. Do you think I could hang onto this for a bit?"

For a few seconds, he simply stared at her, deep in thought. Would his mother be mad? _No Norman, you're being ridiculous. Mother doesn't even know this exists._ When he finally came to the conclusion that she could he slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, okay, sure."

Norman gave her a half smile and turned his eyes back to his paper. His attention was elsewhere though. He was thinking about the dark haired girl sitting next to him. Her fair skin had a splash of freckles that trailed down her neck and disappeared within the pink fabric of her dress. He finally understood the poem. There were so many evil things in the world, but equally, there were so many beautiful things.

 _Tiger Tiger, burning bright,_  
 _In the forests of the night;_  
 _What immortal hand or eye,_  
 _Could frame thy fearful symmetry?_

 _In what distant deeps or skies._  
 _Burnt the fire of thine eyes?_  
 _On what wings dare he aspire?_  
 _What the hand, dare seize the fire?_

 _And what shoulder, and what art,_  
 _Could twist the sinews of thy heart?_  
 _And when thy heart began to beat,_  
 _What dread hand? and what dread feet?_

 _What the hammer? what the chain,_  
 _In what furnace was thy brain?_  
 _What the anvil? what dread grasp,_  
 _Dare its deadly terrors clasp!_

 _When the stars threw down their spears_  
 _And water'd heaven with their tears:_  
 _Did he smile his work to see?_  
 _Did he who made the Lamb make thee?_

 _Tiger Tiger burning bright,_  
 _In the forests of the night:_  
 _What immortal hand or eye,_  
 _Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?_

Charlie was a beautiful thing.

༺ ༻

Another hour passed before Norman and Charlie decided that they were all worded out. There was an innumerable amount of things that could have been much, _much_ , worse, but still. They needed their free time. And quite honestly, Charlie was tired of Norman. He had an annoying habit of clicking his pen.

The two teenagers bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Norma was just finishing up washing and putting away some dishes. She turned at the sound of them entering the room and smiled. Charlie eyed the plate of cookies that were still present on the table and grabbed one. She bit into it and was pleasantly impressed. Who knew that chocolate chip cookies could have so much going for them?

"Mom, can you give Charlie a ride home?" Norman had stepped closer to his mother now and motioned behind him where Charlie was standing. "Emma had to leave early, and she was her ride."

Norma nodded, grabbed a nearby hand towel, and dried herself off, having finished doing all of the dishes. "Of course."

"Great, let me just get my jacket."

Norma winced when her son excitedly started to dart back towards the stairs. She caught hold of his arm and stopped him. "Actually, Norman, I need you to stay here and fix some shutters. A few of them on the left side of the house are broken." Norman tilted his head curiously at his mother. Norma caught this and gave him a reassuring smile. It was easy to see that he had a little crush. "Don't worry, I'll make sure she gets home alright."

After a few seconds the boy nodded, but it was easy to see that he wasn't happy. Norman shuffled off into the kitchen to go out the back door, but turned around and muttered a goodbye to Charlie before reaching the doorway.

The corners of Charlie's lips upturned, and she found herself waving at him. "Bye, Norman. See you Monday."

The two women walked out of the house and down the ridiculous amount of stone steps before reaching the car. Charlie ran her fingers lightly along the front of it, careful not to scratch the exterior. As a kid, she sometimes helped her dad fix cars, which basically consisted of her handing him a wrench everyone once and awhile, but she still learned a lot from just observing. That and the fact that David was obsessed with old vehicles. It was pretty much the topic of every dinner conversation that had occurred since he and her mother had started living together.

"You have good taste. What is this, 1973?"

Norma raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "1972, actually. You like cars?"

Charlie shrugged. "Not really. But my step-dad never shuts up about them." She gave Norma a smirk, opened the passenger door, and got in the car. Norma got in as well, put her key into the ignition, and turned it. The gentle rumble of the engine greeted them along with the crunch of the gravel as they turned on to the main road.

It was only silent for a beat before Norma leaned to her right slightly and met eyes with Charlie. "So I'm not really part of the White Pine Bay gossip crowd, and that's pretty much the only way you hear any news in this town. I was wondering if your dad had any leads in the Keith Summers case."

 _There's a Keith Summers case?_

"What Keith Summers case?"

"Oh, I assumed he would have told you."

 _That's funny._

"He doesn't tell me a lot of things."

"A few nights ago, Keith Summers went missing," The woman began to explain, "They're classifying it as a homicide, but I haven't heard if they have any suspects yet."

 _A homicide? In White Pine Bay? Jesus._

"Keith Summers was murdered?" Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. Charlie leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "I mean, he probably had it coming. He was always mean. And creepy. I think he hit on me- _or at least tried_ -when I was here last year."

Norma scoffed and shook her head. "Yeah, I've heard he was a real piece of work."

"If my dad gets any leads, I'll let you know. Don't count on it though. He really doesn't talk to me about anything."

 _In his eyes, I'm still the little girl with pigtails._

Norma caught on to the annoyance and possibly a bit of sadness, too in Charlie's voice. Spending money on clothes was always a great stress reliever. Sure, it might stress you out later on when you check the balance of your bank account, but in the moment all that mattered was that you got that new pair of heels you'd been eying for some time.

"Do you want to go shopping? I think some retail therapy would be good for the both of us. You can just tell your dad you'll be home late, and I'll tell Norman," Norma noticed Charlie's hesitant look and rolled her eyes playfully. "C'mon, it'll be fun!"

"Okay, Norma," She sighed and offered the blonde a smile that was quickly reciprocated. Charlie shook her head and laughed lightly. "Charlotte Romero, what have you gotten yourself into?"


End file.
